Brothers of Different Mothers

by C. L. Jones

  Pops looked at Cowboy out of the corner of his eye and said, “When we started today there were eighteen total between the blue and red teams. Now there are only seventeen and maybe only fifteen.” Pops knew that every time a man went down or fell out, the better his odds were of going home and taking the cash with him. He hadn’t formed an alliance with Flame and after all, this was a profession that dealt with the loss of life on a regular basis.

  Pops and Cowboy walked along the shoreline for five minutes and several times thought that they’d spotted Flame but each time it turned out to be debris that had been washed up by the water. Then Pops saw a large pile of debris about twenty yards farther downriver and they headed towards it. It turned out that on top of the debris was a lump of mud and branches and when they turned it over they found Flame. Cowboy put his ear to Flame’s chest and then took his pulse. He looked at Pops and said, “Why don’t you go get the others.” They looked at each other and Pops got up, took a couple steps, stopped, looked back at Cowboy and the body thinking it was Cowboy’s word that Flame was really dead. Pops turned away and walked back up the river to tell the rest of the team while leaving Cowboy to watch the body. Pops never looked back.

  He returned to his recuperating teammates and reported that Flame had been found. The group wanted to know if Flame was still alive. Pops looked down and shook his head from side to side and said, “I don’t think so. Cowboy is staying with him.”

  The team moved downstream along the shoreline with Pops bringing up the rear. The guys stopped where the body was spotted and Pops walked up behind them. He surveyed the area and immediately noticed that Flame was not up on shore where he’d originally been found but was in the shallow part of the stream bed laying face down in the water. Pops checked but could not find any trace of dragging or heavy footsteps in the mud that would have been made by Cowboy if he’d been carrying a heavy load. The area was cleaned so well it looked like virgin ground.

  Cowboy looked at him with a look that told Pops all he needed to know. At that moment he knew that Cowboy was either going to be a good friend or a very bad enemy or maybe both. He hoped that Cowboy could be a tool to help him in his quest for the money, but he also knew that in the end it might come down to one man. For the moment Pops put what had happened in the back of his mind to deal with later and used a mantra that had served him well during combat, thinking over and over, “No wants, no worries, and no regrets.” He knew that in this business you never have a true friend because some day that friend could be sent to hunt you as part of his next mission. A trigger is a trigger and a target is a target.

  The team had to make some quick decisions. Time was short and the sun was about halfway across the sky. Did they have time to bury Flame or would it be better to do it on their way back? They didn’t know how much more they would encounter on the course before starting back and whether they would be short of daylight if they spent the time for a burial. After a quick discussion there was a team consensus to cover him with as many rocks as they could and take care of him later if possible. Half of the team covered Flame with rocks while the other half disassembled the raft and retrieved the rope. They hid the logs from the raft so they could use them later if needed.

  Leaving the makeshift grave, Cowboy, Indy, Rocky, Roadside, Surfer and Pops made their way back upstream and were now standing at the foot of the new rocky face challenge. Surfer went to the base of the wall and checked it like he’d done on the first climb. As Surfer scanned the wall, Pops wondered whether the team had anything left. Was there enough metal inside them? Pops had kept his body in good combat shape but even he questioned if he had enough stamina. He could feel muscle fatigue setting in on his own body. Some of the men were younger and some were about Pops’ age. He was sure that no matter their age, all were feeling some fatigue.

  Pops took a good long drink of water and with a laugh mentioned to the others to do the same. The remaining team had survived the marshy punji pit, the tree bridge and worst of all, the river. If they made it to the top of this wall, then what would they be facing and how long would it take? Nobody on the team had a watch but Pops figured it must be somewhere around twelve or twelve-thirty because the sun was almost straight overhead.

  Pops saw Surfer bend down at the base of the wall and like before he picked up a hand full of dirt and rubbed it into hands. The team recognized that Surfer was going through his basic pre-climb routine. He gave the team a look of tiredness and said, “Oh shit moments? Well this is another oh shit wall, and this one is taller.” He slung the rope over his shoulder and very slowly and one careful step at a time, climbed up the wall. When he reached the top he slung one end of the rope down to the men. The team looked at each other and one at a time grabbed the rope and started up. Pops remembered a phrase from his training, “When you have no choices what choice do you have?” He brought up the rear of the team, grabbed the rope and starting his climb.

  Pops knew if he was feeling tired then so was the rest of his team. He kept his mind off his aching body and instead thought of what the prize money would mean for his family. Maybe the money would in some way make up for everything the family had endured, and maybe make up for all the time he had missed and all the childhood things he would never share with them. Those things were long gone. Pops felt guilty about the times he’d relocated the family, pulling his kids out of school away from their friends and moving them someplace where they didn’t know anyone. He thought about the long lonely nights that Mary had spent not knowing if he was alive or if she would ever hear his voice or see him again. He remembered how he felt more than guilty when he came home from a mission and saw his own reflection in Mary’s tear-filled eyes and how it was a constant reminder of the life he had chosen. Mary had picked him but she had had no say in this life. Every time he came home she must have had some fear deep down inside about who or what was coming home to her.

  Only once had Mary brought up the taboo subject of his work and she did it in a very surprising way. They were in their bedroom getting ready to go out for the evening. Mary had already put on her make-up and after much fussing had her hair looking perfect. She was in the middle of putting on a little red dinner dress that she knew he was very fond of, when she turned to him and with a blank face, and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

  It never crossed his mind that she would ask about anything to do with the job so he said, “Sure.”

  Then Mary asked the most shocking thing he’d ever heard her say, “Are you my husband?” While she was asking her eyes were glued to his.

  Pops looked back at her and laughed and answered in a joking or maybe almost a mocking voice, “Who do you think I’d be?”

  Mary turned away as if that was it but then turned back to him and said, “Now don’t get mad but before you left for the war you had brown eyes that were so dark that your family and even I could not see the difference between the center of the eye and the brown part. When you came home you had green or hazel eyes. When you left you were taller and you weighed more, I know it may sound silly to you but I have noticed things like that and I think your mother has noticed as well.”

  Pops stood there trying to think of something to say. From what she had just said he knew that this was apparently something she had been thinking and worrying about for a long time. The only thing he could think to say at the time was, “You know I’m your husband, the same guy I’ve always been.”

  Pops was wrenched out of his daydreaming and back to the matter at hand when he slipped and missed a foot hold. After some desperate claw scratching at the wall he was able to grab hold of a small protruding rock and regain both a hand and foothold. The wall and his barely avoided fall was a sharp reminder of where he was right then. With that he refocused himself on the current mission. He looked up the wall and to his surprise could see the outline of two of the team members standing on top looking back down at the people still on the climb. One by one each of the team members reached the top and each of
them would stand and give words of encouragement as they looked down at the ones still climbing. The climbers had drawn down the last of their energy reserves and every last ounce of strength to make it up the cliff face. Finally, the remaining team was standing on the top and Surfer was gathering up the rope. Pops heard someone say, “Man, I can’t believe this!”

  Before Pops could spin around he thought, now what the hell? He turned to find the biggest surprise of the day. There about fifty feet from the team was the same big old green truck with the same driver that had picked them up from the airplane. “Hey there, you boys made some pretty good time.” The team stood there dumfounded, without any of them saying a word in response.

  The driver looked around and past the team and asked, “Is this all of you?” Not until that time had it occurred to anyone to wonder about Tracker who was left behind at the fallen tree. Without answering Cowboy, Indy, Rocky, Roadside, Surfer and Pops walked to the back of the truck and climbed aboard. Pops noticed that this time the side tarps had been rolled up. As each member took a seat they looked at one another but nobody said a word. Some of the team made an effort to catch a little sleep or at least try to relax even though the ride was rough and bumpy.

  Pops was dozing in and out most of the way back. It seemed like no time at all when he was completely awakened by the screech of the truck brakes as they came to a sudden stop. The rough stop caused most of the men to bang against one another and fall to the floor of the truck bed. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes he could not believe that they were already back at the compound.

  The team picked themselves up off the floor of the truck or wherever else they had landed and made their overworked weary bodies climb down from the tailgate of the truck. The training captain was standing there waiting, “Okay gentlemen, you’ve done a good job. Go ahead and shower and grab a bite at the mess hall and if you want you’ll have time for a quick nap.” Being a military man Pops was somewhat surprised by the fact that none of the compound’s leadership team had taken a head count of the men getting off the truck or questioned them about the two missing men.

  As the team started to disperse, Indy managed to say to each of the team members, “Keep quiet, keep quiet about everything.”

  Walking back to his hooch, an exhausted Pops thought today had been a crappy day. He got undressed and grabbed his shower bag and towel. All he wanted at the moment was to stand under a hot shower for about an hour, get dressed in clean attire and grab some food.

  Pops walked through the door of the shower house and ran into Cowboy, Rocky and Roadside each in a different stage of undress. They smiled and nodded at Pops who thought that any normal civilian walking into a shower house and having three half naked men smiling at him would be a little unsettling. “What?” Pops said with an uncertain smile starting to form on his face. He thought the three men were posturing and boasting about getting through the day. But then the three men parted and moved away from each other and there on the dressing bench was Tracker wearing a big ass smile. Pops’ posture puffed right up and a smile stretched across his face. He pointed his finger at Tracker and said only one word, “Bingo, I knew it. Down deep I knew it.”

  Pops walked to the far side of the dressing area, took a seat on the bench and started to undress. Rocky sat down beside him and said, “Tracker made it back a long time ago and waited in the woods for us to get back. Nobody knew any different.” Pops was somewhat surprised at Tracker’s good sense and his ability to make such a clever decision. Maybe he better watch Tracker a little closer or trust him a little more. This guy might be okay after all.

  Pops took the training captain’s advice. After finishing his shower he got something to eat and headed back to the hooch for a much needed nap. He was resting on his bed staring at the ceiling wondering why nothing had been said about Flame and why no one seemed to care. Then he remembered that they only needed five men and losing Flame was just a part of sorting out the weakest guys in the competition. Who went out and who did or did not come back didn’t much matter to the powers to be at this compound.

  Pops thought that the makeshift grave they’d made would most likely be Flame’s permanent resting place. He hoped that Flame was like a lot of the agents and either came from a broken family or had no family at all. Pops found over the years that he was one of the exceptions. He not only had a wife but also an oversized Middle American family. It was a close family to the point of being a clan. Pops thought about Mary and the kids and about Flame’s end. He thought of all the places he’d been, all the things he’d done and all the close calls that he’d gotten out of in one piece. Then he wondered if like Flame, this place could be his end and no one would ever know what happened to him or where his bones had been laid. Pops knew he had to win, he had to go home and he had to find out why a loyal trigger like him was sent to a place like this one.

  Later that evening he woke up and saw someone walking up to his building door. “Hey Pops, are you in there?” It was Indy’s voice, “They want all the Red team at the chapel right now.” Pops dressed quickly, picked up his weapon, pulled out his soft cover and pulled it down on his head. As he and Indy walked to the chapel the only words that passed between them was when Indy said, “Good day, today.”

  Pops replied, “Yep.”

  Pops and Indy entered the mess hall and Pops saw a large tub with cans of beer and soft drinks tucked into melting slushy ice water. The tables had been placed in a line with the chairs facing the back of the mess hall where a large white movie screen had been erected. The training captain was standing by the screen and after a few minutes Pops saw the captain looking at the training corporal standing next to the door where the team had entered. Pops was a little concerned about the posture of the captain and corporal, so he worked his way to the other side of the eating area. Keeping several people between him and the corporal, he continued to scrutinize everyone. Pop’s eyes scanned the mess hall and it seemed no one else was aware of the potential danger. This could be an easy set-up for anyone not paying attention.

  The captain walked to the center of the screen and started speaking, “Gentlemen listen up. Tonight we have a movie for you. You all did a fantastic job out there today and the camp leadership thought it would be good for you to relax tonight. Tomorrow the blue team goes out and they will have tomorrow night off. Tomorrow night you will not be allowed near the mess hall after chow, is that clear?” Pops was still watching the corporal standing at the door. The captain went on, “The next morning at six hundred hours both teams will be briefed on the competition phase. So until then relax and enjoy the movie.”

  Pops figured that as hard as the course was for the red team, it would be just as hard for the blue team. He hoped the red team would have more down time to recuperate during the blue team’s run through the course and the test.

  The movie started and the team settled into a nice, restful, brain dead night. The windows were open and the evening air was flowing through the mess hall. Any man who’d spent any amount of time living outside at night knew there was nothing like a clear, bright, cool night. The smell of fresh popcorn made it even better.

  Pops had already seen the movie so it made it a lot easier to keep an eye out for anything or anyone out there in the night. Before long the others picked up on Pops’ vigilance and Tracker, Cowboy, Indy, Rocky, Roadside and Surfer were doing their parts. Calmly one by one the team casually repositioned themselves around the mess hall. This went unnoticed by the cadre members. The red team pretended to be fully engaged in the movie, all the while watching everything that moved and every sound not on the screen.

  The movie had gone on for more than an hour and the team was starting to get sleepy when Tracker started laughing very loudly at a point in the movie that wasn’t funny. The rest of the team instantly knew something was up. Cowboy moved in Tracker’s direction near the beer and soda tub and Pops also pretended to go get another soda. All of the red team members started laughing along with Tracker
. Cowboy was laughing when he sat down beside Tracker. Pops bent down at the end of the table to get his soda out of the tub of ice when Tracker said, “There are at least two people out there.”

  Pops answered back, “I’ll check it out. You guys cover for me and I’ll sneak out the other door and slip around.”

  Cowboy reached down and pulled up his pant leg exposing a nice Special Forces survival knife. The blade and the grip were flat black and the edges were sharpened on both sides making it more like a dagger then a knife. He pulled it out of his boot, handed it to Pops and whispered, “Here you may need this.”

  Pops took the knife making sure it stayed lower then window level. He gave a smile and a wink to Tracker and Cowboy and then said, “Thanks, I always liked the eagle’s talons. Quick, easy and you’re out.”

  Cowboy rolled his eyes towards the back of the mess hall and told him, “Need any help?”

  Pops knew it would be easier for the cadre observers to notice if more than one man left the mess hall. With his head down he responded, “No, that’s okay.” He gestured to the other side of the mess hall, “Now give me some cover. Do something over there to get their attention.”

  They both started laughing again and Cowboy said, “Okay killer go for it.”

  Pops took his coke and headed back to his seat. Rocking his chair back as far as he could on the back two legs; he went back to watching the movie and waited for the diversion. Before he knew what was happening all kinds of crashing thunderous noise came from behind him. With one quick movement he rocked the chair forward, rolled out of it to the side, and was down on the floor out of sight. Moving fast, he crawled to the door and waited at the opposite end of the mess hall for a sign from Cowboy and Tracker. The noise may have been enough of a distraction for Pops. He could have turned and looked but he was on a mission and nothing would draw his attention away from making a smooth, clean, unseen exit.